


Blue

by kiafeles



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gen, M/M, sleepover, this is the result of many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:31:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6973258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiafeles/pseuds/kiafeles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hajime has never liked the color blue. But he likes Oikawa, and he could stay like this forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> i like to think that this is set sometime during their second year but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Hajime has never liked the color blue.

 

It’s such a contradictory color, and despite that, it’s everywhere. There is blue in the whispering darkness of the night and in the contrasting brightness of day. There is blue in the volleyball uniforms that Hajime wears and then carefully folds each day. And there is blue in the voices of his teammates after every loss, and behind the eyes of one very young Oikawa Tooru.

 

Hajime doesn’t particularly hate it. To hate blue would be impractical, because it’s not like he can escape a color of all things. At times, however, he comes to resent it, comes to resent its presence in his life and its ever lurking sentiment.

 

In practice, with his thoughts far from such thoughts, Hajime spikes the ball, feels the crack of his bones and the resistance of the ball on his palms. There is a sweet relief at clearing his path, as sweet as hearing the blue leave Oikawa’s voice and retreat from his demeanor.

 

A coach claps a hand on his back at the end of their practice match, seemingly proud of Hajime’s performance during the match. Hajime doesn’t understand where the gesture comes from. Hajime hasn’t performed particularly better than any other day, he thinks, but a look in the eyes of the adults tells him that the gesture is not encouraging his volleyball skills so much as it is encouraging another’s. 

 

Oikawa always performs well. That much is a given. He trains too hard not too, and never holds back, even in practice matches, unless it is for the express purpose of observation, or for some twisted form of strategy (which Hajime scolds him for anyway). And yet today’s practice match has proven that Hajime either doesn’t know Oikawa as well as he wishes or that Oikawa simply has something else on his mind.

 

Hajime doesn’t know which option he favors because either one ends up poorly. Ultimately it doesn’t matter, however. Even if the coaches hadn’t subtly insisted that Hajime check out what’s wrong with Oikawa’s performance, Hajime would do so anyway. 

 

He finds Oikawa in the locker room. The lockers are blue, but the fact is trivial and has already been established in Hajime’s head, so he elects to ignore it.

 

“Oikawa,” he says, as Oikawa fiddles with his bag.

 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa looks up from his bag, meeting Hajime’s eyes levelly. Oikawa messes with his bag a bit more before he finally succeeds in zipping it closed. Winking, he takes the bag and throws it over his shoulder. “You didn’t miss me, did you? It hasn’t been _that_  long.”

 

“Funny,” Hajime deadpans, crossing his arms. He tilts his head as he takes in Oikawa’s appearance. It’s as pristine as usual, but a dark cloud hangs over the other teen regardless. “You tired?”

 

“Aww, Iwa-chan cares about my health!”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Hajime sighs. He should know not to dance around the issue.

 

Oikawa falls into a small pout and Hajime simply grits his teeth, closing his eyes to shut the image out. Oikawa makes to speak again, but Hajime cuts him off.

 

“You weren’t playing at a hundred percent today. Any reasons why?”

 

“Does Iwa-chan not trust my dedication?”

 

Hajime groans and sits down, placing his back to the blue lockers. He doesn’t need to see them right now.

 

“Stop...doing that.”

 

Oikawa tilts his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Doing what?”

 

“Doing that...thing. Where you try to act all...cute, so you don’t have to answer truthfully.”

 

Oikawa places a hand to his mouth and gasps dramatically, plopping down next to Hajime. “You think I’m cute?”

 

“See, you’re doing it again, right there. Stop it.”

 

Oikawa huffs, pointing his chin away from Hajime, but it’s all a part of his act. Hajime notes how the dim light of the locker room outlines Oikawa’s features and silhouettes him against the blue, but leaves the fine details blurred and dimmed.

 

“I thought I was playing fine.”

 

See, this is what pisses Hajime off. The fakeness, the hiding. It’s gotten worse this year, and Hajime is about ready to rip each and every fake grin off Oikawa’s face. Fearing the repercussions of violence, however, Hajime chooses to employ another tactic.

 

“How much did you sleep last night?”

 

“Oh, enough.”

 

“I want numbers.”

 

Oikawa narrows his eyes and smirks, and expression reserved for those who displease him. Hajime hates having that expression turned on him, knowing that it means exactly the opposite of what he wants. Oikawa is hiding how he is feeling, and his increasingly icy tone, used with his childhood friend of all people, only serves to cause more suspicion. 

 

“Four.” The hitch in Oikawa voice, hardly perceptible to those who don’t listen, betrays him.

 

“Hours?”

 

“No, minutes.” 

 

Hajime takes a deep breath to calm himself, but his temper is rising.

 

“Really,” Oikawa continues. “If you wish to know, I was watching clips of our opponents today. It seems like it worked out well, wouldn’t you say? We won.”

 

Hajime doesn’t feel like giving a lecture on hard work to _Oikawa_ of all people, because he knows the argument isn’t in any way viable. The sleep lecture, however, seems aptly appropriate, and Hajime readies himself to take the plunge.

 

“You need to get more sleep. All the observation in the world will mean nothing if you can’t focus in a match.”

 

Oikawa opens his mouth but it is clamped shut at a single glance.

 

“And don’t think that sleeping during class is fine either. You’ll need good test scores, even on a volleyball scholarship.”

 

Oikawa rolls his eyes and Hajime scolds him mentally because he knows what Oikawa is thinking and no, he’s not his mom, as much as Oikawa jokes. He simply will not tolerate a teammate - or friend - who refuses to take care of himself.

 

Oblivious to Hajime’s thoughts, Oikawa waves a hand dismissively and gets up from his perch, yawning. The action does not help his case. Nevertheless, he trots off, leaving Hajime to trail angrily behind him.

 

“I’m hungry and I want to go home, and no offense, but you’re being boring.”

 

“You’re avoiding the issue.”

 

“Plus,” Oikawa puts on his best inquiring face, “I can always sleep in tomorrow morning. No practice, remember?”

 

No practice and a weekend, Hajime recalls, simply because the gym is being occupied by another club. The perfect opportunity to catch up on lost sleep, but Hajime isn’t about to let Oikawa use that as an opportunity to stay awake for longer than usual.

 

“I’m coming over,” Hajime finally says. The bluntness of the statement would make most people blink and perform a double take, even some of their fellow teammates, but it’s so natural at this point that Oikawa doesn’t protest. Instead, he stares up at a blue, blue sky and the setting sun, and they walk home together.

 

When they reach Oikawa’s house, Oikawa knows to get Hajime his sleeping bag, and he knows exactly how to set it up to Hajime’s liking beside his own bed. He says having Hajime sleep in the bag makes him feel taller, because he has to crane his neck and look down to see Hajime’s sleeping face. Hajime scolds him because one, Oikawa has been taller than him for a while now and two, seeing Hajime’s sleeping face only means that Oikawa isn’t sleeping, and Oikawa grumbles, but it soon dissolves into happy chuckles.

 

They stay up later than Hajime wants, simply because Oikawa is persistent in finding things to keep them both up and because Hajime is a sucker for wrapping himself up in blankets and listening to Oikawa talk. A movie plays in the background on Oikawa’s television, it’s screen blue in the corner of Hajime’s vision, but unless the film is about one of Oikawa’s more selective tastes, the pair never pays much attention to it. Oikawa simply rattles off about his day and Hajime obediently listens, too tired and too calm to care.

 

It’s pushing 1:30 AM before Hajime finally bullies Oikawa into sleeping, but he knows it’s earlier than most nights so he lets it slide. He’ll work on pushing it back half hour by half hour in the days to come, until it has settled on a more reasonable time.

 

In the darkness of Oikawa’s room, Hajime hears Oikawa’s irregular breathing, and he figures Oikawa hears the same. Neither of them are asleep: Oikawa out of stubborn habit, and Hajime as a result of his own loud thoughts. Hajime is tired, he tells himself, but not enough to finally crash, not until he knows for sure.

 

It is perhaps 2:30 before Oikawa relents, and despite Oikawa’s peaceful state, Hajime considers his mission a loss, albeit an educational one. He has learned that screens before bed, of any kind, are a no-no. Additionally, he has learned that responding to Oikawa’s little bits of slurred conversation in the dark do nothing to make the other boy more sleepy. 

 

In paying so much attention to Oikawa, Hajime has also discovered his own reluctance to sleep, and the irony does not escape him. Oikawa stays up late watching players from other teams into the early hours of the morning. Hajime loses sleep similarly, but does so by watching and waiting for one player alone.

 

Hajime hasn’t ever really considered that fact seriously, and wonders why now of all times is different.

 

He’s startled out of his own daze but the ruffling of a blanket right above his head. Jerking up, Hajime sees Oikawa’s wide brown eyes watching him.

 

“How long have you been there?” Hajime rubs at his face, blinking in the darkness.

 

“All night.”

 

“I meant,” he swallows dryly, “how long have you been awake, watching me?”

 

“A half hour, probably.”

 

Hajime throws one of his pillows at Oikawa’s face, and Oikawa squeaks, a sharp sound in the darkness. The retaliation is probably counterproductive to Hajime’s goals, but Hajime has stopped caring, because Oikawa deserves it.

 

“You’re such a creep,” Hajime mumbles, blinking sleep out of his eyes.

 

Oikawa throws the pillow right back at Hajime and he splutters, but Oikawa is laughing, which is surprisingly...pleasant. It’s not sleep, but it’s a happy sound, soft and innocent and so much like the laugh that Oikawa once made as a child. It makes Hajime’s face burn, willing him to smile as well, but he tries to suppress his grin. Oikawa, however, sees right through him, snaking his way to the floor with another pillow in hand to cuff Hajime over the head.

 

“Quit it,” Hajime grumbles, but there is no venom in his voice, and Oikawa takes the response as his permission to go to town. Soon enough, Hajime and Oikawa are wrestling in what starts out as a pillow fight but which ultimately results in the both of them laughing breathlessly, staring up at Oikawa’s baby blue ceiling.

 

“You’re awful,” Hajime says between breaths, struggling to find a voice quiet enough so that the house’s other occupants may not wake. Oikawa seems less keen on respecting the sleeping schedules of others, so Hajime pats his arm until he has quieted down.

 

“You know you love me.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

It’s warm under the blankets and with Oikawa’s eyes trained on only him, and nothing else, but a few moments of silence bring Hajime back to reality.

 

“We’re not asleep.”

 

“Very observant, Iwa-chan.”

 

Hajime presses a hand Oikawa’s face to shove him away but Oikawa only bats at it, rolling over so his back is to Hajime.

 

“You know what I meant.”

 

“Did I?” Oikawa peers his head back before turning away from Hajime once more, and Hajime rolls his eyes, scooting closer to Oikawa’s back.  

 

“We’re going to hate this in the morning,” Hajime points out, and Oikawa shifts aways from him, curling into himself.

 

“I hope not,” and for once Oikawa’s voice is very small, barely above a whisper. It takes up no more space than it needs to, and Hajime closes his eyes. He can’t help but agree.

 

When he wakes for the second time, the sun has risen, but just barely, painting oranges, pinks, and blues upon Oikawa’s wall. They spill out over his bed, but do not reach the floor, where Oikawa lies, curled up in Hajime’s blanket, fast asleep. Hajime does not move, choosing to watch  the steady fall and rise of Oikawa’s breathing. It is peaceful and regular, and Hajime closes his eyes again.

 

Oikawa is wearing the same cyan shirt he had worn to bed, and Hajime thinks he likes the color on Oikawa, for once. It does not constrict Oikawa’s body behind false cheeriness, but is simply there, as solid as Oikawa’s resolve and as pure as Hajime’s dedication.

 

When Oikawa rolls over an hour later, he pokes at Hajime’s face.

 

“My back hurts. Why did you make me sleep on the floor?”

  
Hajime doesn’t wish to correct him, and simply gets lost in Oikawa as the chatter begins anew.

**Author's Note:**

> Extra:
> 
> “Iwa-chan, what is that bright orange thing?”
> 
> “That’s the sun.”
> 
> "Why is it doing that bright shining thing?"
> 
> "Because it's the sun."
> 
> "Well it should stop. It’s hard to sleep."
> 
> “Oh, so now you want to sleep?” 
> 
> “Iwa-chan, stop it, I was kidding!”


End file.
